


Isolation

by CombustibleOctopus



Category: Monsterkind (Webcomic)
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-01-09
Packaged: 2018-05-12 20:04:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5678905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CombustibleOctopus/pseuds/CombustibleOctopus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The of Kip's two friends leaves him shambles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Isolation

I wasn’t prepared for everything to fall apart, like many things it just sort of happened. They had gone out to protest against my wishes. They usually showed up in the evening when the protesting was done for the day and the violent, nocturnal riots began. I was surprised to hear a knock at my door in the middle of the afternoon. Instead of seeing my two friends back early; I saw two policemen in their place. 

The unfortunate news had been delivered hours ago, yet I still couldn’t accept it. The protest had turned into a riot and spontaneously became a blood bath. Shots were fired at the crowd. Many monsters were injured. Six monsters were dead including Roy. Molly had vanished afterwards. She still had not been found.

The entrance had absorbed all my attention. I had been staring the door down since the officers left. It was irrational to wait for them, but I still waited and hoped. I was lost without them. As the reality of my situation came crashing in, I began to feel nauseous. I could barely look at the cheap, wooden door that led to Roy’s room without almost heaving. I only knew him for a few good years, but I still amazingly became attached to him in that short amount of time. He was very important to me and I would try to protect him or Molly at whatever cost. My tears streamed down my face as I thought of him. It was rather funny, I didn’t cry for the police officers, but the door made me cry.

Molly’s door was less nauseating than Roy’s. They looked exactly the same, yet I somehow I didn’t feel as sick towards it; nonetheless, I did not like looking at it. I worried about my only living friend. Poor Molly, she could be dead too. Or worse she could be alone and hurt. I couldn’t stand how helpless I was. There is nothing I can do for either of them anymore.

My despair grew with every thought of them. Much to my misfortune those two kept being a reoccurring though. Why do these horrible things keep happening to me? Everyone who has ever mattered is gone into oblivion. My orphanage has occurred twice. I think it is fair for me to damn the man who claims history repeats itself. Damn fate, God, the higher powers, or whatever murdered my family twice. Damn everyone. I’m cursed to be alone. I’m am trapped with these creatures that claim to be my “friends.” They aren’t like Molly or Roy. They only care so much about me. Everyone knows me, but no one really knows me. There was nowhere left to go without being questioned thanks to my popularity. They should mind their own goddamn business. No one would ever understand or worse they would look at me with pity. Oh poor, Kip he just lost everyone! I can hear the same line repeating itself behind my back and to my face just like before.

There was a soft knocking at the door. The pillow I had been obnoxiously sobbing into would have to be removed to answer the door, and the post on the couch I had dutifully guarded all this time would be abandoned. Excitement and hope laced through me when I thought that maybe it was Molly. She had returned safe and sound. I shot up off the sofa thrilled to greet Molly. Then my rational thoughts kicked in and I remembered that Molly has a key and she never knocked softly regardless of how hard she tried. I was not answering the door for anyone.

A similar, probably the same, rapping continued. I went back to my post to wait for my dear friend.  
The knocking came back for a third round. Obviously the persistent pest was not going to leave until I verbally told them to. Before I answered the door I had to stop crying, which took a few minutes of fighting with my tears. How am I to be cold and rude when I’m uncontrollably sobbing? I dizzily stood up and went to answer the door. The tears ceased and the door was opened in the middle of the fourth knocking. Standing before me was the last being I expected. Wallace was standing before me with a somber, yet uncomfortable expression. The fool didn’t seem to understand by all my blatant comments that I didn’t wish to affiliate with him.  
“I heard what happened I’m really sorry for your loss,” he said rather flushed, “It has been two days and everyone is really concerned. They wanted me to come talk to you.” Everyone was so concerned that sent a human to make me feel better. The hard cynicism that resides inside me kept me from having any naïve fantasies that this human was actually concerned or would help. The human race wasn’t concerned the first time why should they bother a second time.

“Thank you for the offer, but I can manage my own,” I said putting on a convincing act. The last thing I need it to be bothered by a bunch a people who don’t really understand.

I went to shut the door when he gave me a desperate look as he pleaded with me, “I don’t think you should be alone right now. I really want to try and counsel you through your losses.” I stopped shutting the door. Did I really want to be alone in there again? I weighted my options and decided that I could easily kick him out if he over stayed his welcome. Out of fear and impetuosity I stepped aside and let Wallace enter.

None of the rooms had dramatically changed since the incident, so I didn’t have to worry about cleaning anything up in the nearly vacant tomb. There was quite a bit of understandable, awkward silence as we sat across from each other. I would make eye contact and quickly look away. Wallace just stared back. Maybe if I put a little bit of effort into starting a conversation Wallace wouldn’t look like he was at a lost for words. Wasn’t he taught how to deal with situations like this? He might be analyzing me if he is any good at his job. As if on cue, Wallace sat up with perfect posture on a chair across from me and asked, “Would you umm… like to talk about it?” His confidence was a fleeting illusion. How was I supposed to answer his question? Wallace I would really love to share all my deep feelings with a complete stranger.

“It was all a bit of a shocker and I haven’t come to terms with it all yet. I am not ready to start talking about it right now.” I responded hoping that questions would end. I’m on the verge of another meltdown, so I tried to focus on Wallace instead of them.  
“When was the last time you ate?” Asked the social worker as he looked at things around the room with curiosity in an attempt to understand how I lived. My appetite had completely fled me and left sickness instead. How long has it been since I ate? Wallace mentioned two days earlier, didn’t he? The sick, empty feeling in my stomach mostly came from not eating for two days. A familiar feeling I had after my first traumatic experience. I couldn’t even think of eating when something really bad happened.  
“I ate an hour ago,” I lied. Two days must have truly passed without my knowledge. Two days. My stomach turned. Things are not looking promising for Molly.

Molly was surely gone forever. I believe Wallace mentioned losses as in more than one of my friends are dead. He knows she probably isn’t coming back. No one has seen or heard from her. My oldest friend, well actually, she could be my sister we were so close. Wouldn’t she have at least contacted me by now? All hope for my roommates are gone. I had to maintain a strong poker face in front of Wallace. It is really hard to keep swallowing the lump in my throat without almost crying. I would have to stop thinking about Molly until my guest has left. Roy’s simple wooden door that literally everyone owned was a magnet to my eyes. I refused to look across the hall at Molly’s door. Sometimes my gaze would drift over to her door with the same repetitive design as Roy’s and mine.

The blonde man eventually caught me staring at Molly’s door. “Where does that door go?” He questioned.

I choked out that it was Molly’s room. Stop it Kip! It might be a shocker, but you are not breaking down in front of this human.  
Wallace’s expression became solemn, yet he still remained empathetic. “Look Kip, I don’t believe that you are okay. I would love to help, but you keep refusing it. I will leave right now like you want, if you can prove me wrong. You need to open her door,” he instructed.

I got off the couch and headed back the hall towards Molly’s bedroom. Wallace’s eyes were focused solely on me now. It was such a simple task, but my feet dragged as if they were weighed down, the closer I got. The air was being squeezed out of me. The knob was in reach. When I finally grabbed it, I couldn’t help but smell Molly’s sweet scent around the door. Chills and sadness washed over me filling my hollow insides until they ached. I missed Molly with her crazy hair and vicious lectures. She was the closest thing to family even closer than Roy. The emotions stirred in me. No longer was I sad. There was an overwhelming amount of rage in me. I let go of the doorknob. Why am I doing this ridiculous task? He just sits there mocking me! I’m not his puppet that he can just manipulate to do as he pleases.

“You don’t actually care! You’re paid to pretend that you give a damn about anyone! It really pisses me off when people pretend to care,” I shouted with a sudden burst of rage, as I turned to face him. “I’m so pissed at you for not minding your own business. You have no idea how furious I am at my family for leaving me! I’m pissed at everyone,” I lowered my voice, “You want to know whom else I’m pissed at? Myself. I was supposed to be the one to protect them and keep them out of harms way. It’s my fault that they are dead. I failed them like everything else in my life.”

As I approached Wallace to rudely asked him to leave; he sprang out of the chair with his eyes bleeding with fear. He ran out rather awkwardly with his hand holding the back of his head. Wallace stopped at the entrance. The startled human turned around and said, “I think you need time to calm down. You can talk to me when you’re ready.” With trembling hands Wallace shut the door. I almost felt bad for the way I acted, but I now realize that nothing really matters anymore. I’m just living a horrible dream.

The apartment became an isolated prison again. I had been glad to have another living creature in here with me. Now that he was gone the room was beginning to fill with mixing scents of Molly and Roy. The scents created ghosts to come and fill me with haunting memories. I’m entrapped in this world, away from the ones I actually cared about. There had to be a way out of this hell. There was a key to be free. We all know about this key; it is a well-known secret. Maybe it would be for the best if I opened the door.  
I would awake from the nightmarish dream and find everyone I lost. I could be me happy again. Nothing remained in this world for me anymore. I stopped in front of Molly’s door. I had to open it this time, so I wouldn’t be scared anymore. Opening her door let out more scented ghosts and opened more scars. Keep it together Kip. Soon you’ll be with Mom, Dad, Kent, Molly, and Roy. What a beautiful promise. Molly’s top drawer opened and a half used bottle of sleeping pill emerged from the clutter. I drunkenly made my way to the kitchen and chugged every last one of them, as everything turned black.

The afterlife was surrounded in darkness, or maybe it was a void. I wasn’t sure if I was floating or standing. Where was everyone? I was the only thing here surrounded and covered in nothingness. Dying might have made me feel a little better, but this wasn’t what I had expected. I was still alone. Was I really alone? As far as I could see I was everything. This isn’t what I had wanted; it had only been momentary relief. There was no reunion and everything remained vague and confusing. Death had not soothed any of my suffering. My goal had not been accomplished because they were all still out of my reaches. Without them I was still in constant pain. It was anguishing to the point I couldn’t stand it anymore.

After what seemed like an eternity of silent pain, everything started to have this weird, numbing ache especially in my left wrist. The pain was much more tolerable. I hear whispers. Oh god, it’s going to become one of my parent nightmares. This is my punishment for killing my self. Who will it be this time? I have quite the line of dead friend’s for my psyche to choose from. I did deserve to be punished for what I had done. These whispers sound different than the usual ones.  
A bright beam of white light shined through. Am I going to the afterlife finally? My eyes opened wide and the light becomes an extremely well lit room. I have to squint at the blinding lights. Everything is blurry and I hear strange noises as I try and make out a smudgy person. I focus a little more and realize I’m in a hospital. The smudgy person got close enough for me to figure out who it is. Wallace is in front of me with a relieved smile holding a bouquet of flowers.

**Author's Note:**

> The rain has some magical powers on my musings. I decided to focus on my favorite webcomic, Monsterkind. I did a POV of Kip with some potential KipxWallace. Kip was a little angsty, which is a little understandable. I can't say that he made the right choices. He was pretty harsh to Wallace though. 
> 
> I'm not really sure if Roy can die, but for the sake of this fan fiction he can be shot to death. Now that I think about it... he would probably have to be torn apart to die. I also believe that Kent is Kip's brother. Other than Roy dying and Kent I don't think I got too out of line when writing in the sense of this world.


End file.
